The Delivery Guy
by S. A. Morley
Summary: After the chaos of the bunker, things seem to be quieting down for the Pines family. But the peace doesn't last long - soon enough, people in Gravity Falls start disappearing without trace, with Dipper and Mabel finding themselves entangled in their scariest adventure yet as they search for their next elusive, terrifying monster: a creature that even Bill Cipher is afraid of.


**Heyo! S. A. Morley, here.**

 **How's life? Good? Good.**

 **Anyway, am I happy to upload this! My friend and I recently binge-watched Gravity Falls because I had never seen it before, and WOW was I impressed. I have been pretty ambivalent when it comes to modern cartoons before watching Gravity Falls, but this show has restored my faith in the cartoon world. They don't make them like they used to, anymore, and they certainly don't make them like Gravity Falls!**

 **In light of this, I present to you this relatively-short story surrounding my favourite mystery twins, their hilarious Grunkle, and a wacky little triangle dude. Here is The Delivery Guy. I was greatly inspired by the show on so many levels - I thought it would be fun to write a story and structure it like an episode of the show.**

 **So, The Delivery Guy is a spooky, tense, and kinda scary "episode" that occurs sometime between episodes Into the Bunker and The Golf War. I did my research in the timeline (i.e. watching more Gravity Falls, yay!), so I hope it'll be as accurate as it can be - any of you Gravity Falls experts out there, feel free to impart any knowledge you feel I should know.**

 **But enough of my rambling. I present: The Delivery Guy. P.S. Can you guess who's narrating this first part? Expect the narrators to jump around a little. Happy reading! Forgive me of any errors, as always.**

* * *

Ah, the weekend. No other time of the week has quite the same feel to it, y'know?

After all of my time cooped up in the cramped crevasses between dimensions, I've recently discovered that the weekend is a precious — even sacred — time. A time that must be relished and worshipped if one is to survive this crazy catastrophe called life.

It's a beautiful thing, really. To all those little mortals, the weekend meant a brief break from the tiring work of the rest of the week, a chance to catch up on some sleep, a time to hang with your pals, break your diet a little, and maybe do something stupid… Great stuff. Hilarious, too, if they play their cards wrong. I loved watching them blow their weekends.

I've learned to embrace weekends, myself. I'll tell you, nothing beats a nice Friday afternoon of launching small animals across the forest to see how many times they bounced. My personal record's eight (think you could beat that?), with good ol' Hank the possum. But I'm working to beat my top score. Enough with the badgers and raccoons. Beavers were next on my list.

All in all, when it came to the concept of the weekend, maybe these mortals finally got something right? I'll give them that much.

But anyway, I'm blabbing. What was I talking about? Oh, right. The weekend. _This_ weekend, to be precise — the seemingly-normal weekend where everything went so haywire it felt like Black Friday of '82 all over again. Man, did things get weird. Weird even for Gravity Falls standards.

And it all started with a phone call.

The little log house on the edge of the Oregon forest sat sleepily beneath the purple and blue-smeared evening sky, its square windows glowing warmly. But the house's occupants were anything but sleepy. I could hear them quite clearly through the window pane I was peeking through.

The night had begun just like any other for me — wandering between the trees, chasing squirrels, scheming up my latest pranks and my hopes for my glorious future — when the air was suddenly rent by what sounded like a pack of burly, howling wolves. I think the trees shook a little; flocks of birds scattered into the sky in a panic. And it was all gushing from the little log house. To be honest, I was surprised the noise levels didn't blast the place apart.

Both curious and startled, I peered deeper inside, wondering what all the fuss was about — I mean, these people were bellowing their lungs out.

It didn't take me long to find the source of the howling: huddled in their plaid-patterned kitchen, a trio of boisterous, redheaded boys and their behemoth of a father all crowded around the only girl in the house, each of them shouting their requests for something she was endeavouring to order over a phone. They all had similar faces and body structures, which lead me to believe they were family.

"I WANT AVOCADO!" cried the youngest.

"MINK AND CHEESE, WENDY!" screamed the middle boy.

"LUMBERJACK HEART ATTACK!" wailed their bushy father, spraying spit all over them.

"PI-ZZA! PI-ZZA! PI-ZZA!" they all chanted.

Sheesh, what a racket. If they continued on like this, they'd keep the entire town up all night — which wasn't good at all for my social life, I'll have you know.

Struggling to ignore them, the girl tugged the flaps of her brown, fuzzy hat over her ears as far as she could while holding the phone to her head, her eyes wide, unblinking, twitching. Her gaze bore into the wallpaper as she waited for the other line to pick up, her mouth hard pressed. She looked to be under a crazy amount of stress. And after looking at those four goons, I could totally see why.

Intrigued by the odd scene, I found myself drifting forward, slipping through the atoms in the window pane and entering their thunderous kitchen, placing myself in the air at the girl's side. Had I been there physically, the sheer blasts of the guys' voices would have blown my hat clean off. Thankfully for everyone's ears, however, the girl then took a breath to greet whomever had answered her call, and the guys all shut up in an instant, watching her with a feverish intent.

"Hey, can I order a pizza?" she said into the phone, her voice a lovely, calm, laid-back drawl.

I was surprised — with that strained look, I figured she was gonna go postal at whoever she was talking to. But she kept her cool as she relayed her order, proceeding to request a colossal, four-way-flavoured, "Paul Bunyan-sized" double-stuffed pan pizza with everything from deer jerky to duck tongues and pine needles on it, all smothered with a blanket of parmesan cheese.

As soon as she had made it, the order seemed sufficient for the rest of her company, for they all retreated with expressions of approval on their faces, high-fiving, grunting, and making for the flannel couches surrounding the TV in the other room. Once they had switched it on to footage of what looked to be a catfish wrestling tourney, the girl finished up her call.

"You got it, Steve. Hey, couldja send someone funny? I could use a laugh. Thanks, dude." With that, she placed the phone back onto its hook, gave an easy sigh of relief, and made for the fridge.

I watched her stride past me, studying her with fascination. I'll admit, she was decently pretty-looking, as far as humans go, with her speckled cheeks, relaxed eyes and long mess of brick-red hair. The girl couldn't have been more than fifteen, judging by the youth in her skin. She seemed to be unwinding from the screaming session from before as she reached into the fridge and pulled out a can of soda, cracking it open and taking a long, fizzy swig.

Refreshed, she leaned up against a countertop. At one point, while her eyes wandered around the kitchen, her gaze lingered directly onto me for a moment or two, although she was completely unaware of my presence.

Suddenly giddy, I gave her a wiggle of my fingers, tweeting, "Hey, fancy meeting you here, darlin' — name's Bill." I held out a hand. "Don't think I caught yours…?"

The girl didn't even blink.

I shrugged it off, giggling to myself. I knew just as well that she couldn't see me, nor did she have any idea that I even existed, but I instigated conversation nonetheless. It gets a bit lonely here, in this parallel mindscape — though there are dozens of people to talk to in Gravity Falls, not too many of them are perceptive enough (nor brilliant enough) to hold a proper conversation. To keep entertained at the worst of times, I find it best to just talk it out with their dull, glazed-over expressions in reality and then screw with them in their dreams. Always worth it to see them wake up eating their own socks or leaping out of their beds in terror. Heh, heh.

"Not much of a talker, are you, Red?" I continued, retracting my hand. "Mind if I call you that? No? Great! And I wouldn't sweat over the conversation bit — I just like to fill the space. Natural talent, I guess." Leaning forward, I eagerly swung my feet beneath me, asking, "So, when's the pizza getting here? Can't wait to see that monster you ordered! At the door in fifteen minutes or it's free, right? Hoo boy! Didja want me to delay traffic? I can do that!"

Again, not even an acknowledgement.

Sighing, I rolled my eye. The lustre of our meeting had dulled. "Eh, whatever. We'll just have a look at it whenever it gets here." Almost as if she knew the conversation was beginning to wane, the girl took the last few draws of her soda, crushed the can, and chucked it into a garbage bin, swivelling on her heel and making for her family in the other room. She joined in their deep chorus of cheering their favourite catfish super wrestler to victory, leaving me to my own devices.

I flashed a thumbs-up at the back of her head, calling, "But hey, if you want me to change the delivery guy's tires into turtles, or something, you know where to find me! Call me when the doorbell rings!"

…And that was that. Well, it was fun while it lasted.

Now super bored — again — I floated aimlessly about the lumberjack family's house from room to room, poking through their stuff, my infinite mind wandering. What was I going to do with myself tonight? I definitely wanted to stay for a while to see their terrifying pizza, at least. Call me crazy, but it actually sounded kinda appetising when Red was ordering it. Maybe I could cut a deal with someone and steal a slice, just to see what it tasted like? Wouldn't be the first time I did a little body-swapping to get a bite of something I was curious about. It certainly wouldn't be my last, either.

Ah, food. Food was weird. All it was was chunks of different-tasting matter that sustained life. I didn't need it, but it was a guilty distraction that I indulged in every now and then.

Get it? Indulged? Ha ha ha! I'm such a riot.

Anyway, after mindlessly phasing through every wall in the house for at least ten minutes, I suddenly found myself in an empty bedroom, where I paused, having a casual look around. It was definitely a teenage girl's room. Had to be Red's. Her clothes were all over the floor. The curtains were drawn, the small TV was dark, the bedsheets untidy. There were several pictures of her and her group of friends set throughout the place. It was mostly a bunch of stupid teens doing stupid stuff, but pictures have always attracted me. I'm not sure why, but I can't just _not_ stop and look at them.

As I meandered around the room, my eye drinking in the little snapshots of summer captured in their little frames, I abruptly froze where I floated, stunned at the framed postcard before me on her nightstand. Blinking away any remaining boredom mist out of my eye, I studied it. No, it wasn't just the low light — I recognised the group of the people posing in the photo. I thrust my eye in closer, perusing the ink intensely.

Those braces… The silly blue cap… That fez… The blubbery man-child… And her.

How did this girl know the Pines family?

Ah, yes, the Pines family… I had a certain place in my metaphysical heart for them — I wouldn't say that I abhorred them, but they certainly were fun and interesting to play with. At least when I messed with them they put up a bit of a fight, unlike the legions of other suckers I've danced with in the past. Some of them were just too easy to swindle. It wasn't even fun. But the Pines? They were the real deal, man — they didn't hesitate to put on their war paint when we were duking it out in Stan's senior-citizen noggin last week.

"Hm…" I thought to myself, focusing on the frozen faces of Dipper, Mabel and Stan in the photograph. "Maybe I'll ask Red what she knows about them tonight?" The idea was appealing, I'll give myself credit for that. She might talk — she'd never seen me before. And after what I did to the Pines, they definitely wouldn't have let me within ten feet of them or their weird little shack; I've kept my distance since then, watching from afar, forcing myself to avoid their dreams, as deliciously exciting as they were.

There would come a day. I'd just have to wait patiently for it.

But maybe Red was my ticket to getting back to them? They were fragile, corruptible mortals, sure, but they held the key to my plans somewhere deep in their minds and walls — a key that I hungered for more desperately with each passing day. My plans were set.

Tonight, I'd find out if redheads really did have no souls.

Just as the thought began to tickle to life in my mind, a distant bell roused me from my planning. I whirled towards the open door as another wave of mannish wailing blasted through the house, the floorboards giving a collective shudder.

"PIZZA'S HERE!" I heard the father thunder.

"I'll get it!" Red hollered.

Oh, I had to see this.

Surging forward, I tore through the walls and phased into the entranceway beyond the kitchen, where I was met with Red as she casually approached the front door, twenty bucks held in her fist. She flicked the porch light on and seized the door's handle, swinging it open to reveal a slouched figure clutching a gigantic pizza box standing on her doorstep.

She greeted him happily, "Hey, glad you're here, dude — that our pizza?"

I moved in closer, hovering right behind her shoulder. Immediately, my eye ran up and down the delivery guy's frame, taking in how baggy and threadbare his uniform was. That struck me as a little odd, if I'm being honest with you. The longer I looked at him, though, the stranger things got, which wasn't terribly uncommon in Gravity Falls. But other people's weirdness usually had a stopping point — this guy, however, was weird through and through, no holds barred. In fact, his weirdness bordered a little on the unsettling side.

Funny — I didn't recognise him. Must've been new in town. He looked to be maybe sixteen, judging by his physique and scraggly stubble on his angular jawline. He looked to be of Native American descent, too, his rich, caramel-coloured skin pulled tight over his gaunt features. His face kinda resembled a skeleton, with his hollowed-out cheekbones and eye sockets. Like I mentioned, his clothes simply hung off of his wiry frame, his clavicle poking through the material of his shirt. He stood with a noticeable slouch, gazing emptily into Red's now-waning smile.

Now, I'm a big fan of scary, but this kid had eyes like I had only seen in the deepest, darkest realms, where only the foulest of creatures dared to crawl. They were wide, dry, bloodshot and boundless, his pupils disappearing into his dark, almost-black irises, and they seemed to glow in the light of the porch. I thought I saw his gaze flicker over to me for a second, as though he could see me behind Red's shoulder.

Looking back to the girl, the boy managed a tortured-looking smile that split his face up horribly, holding up the enormous cardboard box for her to take. Little columns of steam snaked their way out of the holes on the sides. I bet it smelled amazing.

"Here you go," he said, his tone dull, scratchy and weary. He sounded like he hadn't slept in a decade. "One piping hot Paul Bunyan special pizza with four deluxe flavours. Hand-crafted just for you from us."

"Hey, thanks," Red replied, taking it off his hands. She opened it a crack, inspecting it. The thing was just as monstrous as it sounded when she was ordering it — the size of a manhole cover and as thick as a dictionary, the pizza was completely slathered with cheese and sprinkled with bits of dried deer jerky. Oh man, did I want to dig into it hardcore. "This smells awesome."

He continued to stare with those eerie, bulging eyes, the both of them exchanging an awkward, several-moments glance before Red decided to start her retreat into the house. I drifted back to stay out of her way. "Well, I, uh, hope you have a good night," she finally stammered, breaking the stiff silence. I could practically feel the discomfort in her tone. "Thanks again — "

Just as she began to close the door, the boy spoke up, straightening his slouch and slapping a long, gnarled hand on the doorframe. His fingernails were filthy. "Wait a second. Uh… Listen, things are kinda hard for me right now… Could you possibly spare a dime?" He blinked at her slowly. "I would _really_ appreciate it, miss."

"Oh, right, totally. I still need to pay you, too, don't I…?" Red began absently, setting the box onto a stool by the door frame and readying her money. "Here. I hope it's enough to cover the delivery and your tip."

She held out the twenty dollar bill for him to take. He stared at it with an almost animalistic hunger in his eyes, reaching for it. "Oh, that should be plenty…" he droned, his tongue running over his lips. "…Thank you for your sacrifice…"

But he didn't take the money. He took her hand and pulled. Hard. Too hard. With some kind of superhuman strength in those skinny arms, he yanked Red clean off of her feet and through the threshold of the door, where I watched her disappear into the darkness beyond the porch as he bolted off down the driveway in a half-second flat.

It all happened so fast, she didn't even get the chance to scream.

"What the — ?!" I cried, completely stupefied for once in my life. Squinting through the dark, I watched their faint silver silhouettes shrink through the trees as they rocketed at a pace much too fast for a regular human being. He was pulling Red along behind him like she weighed nothing, her body flapping in the wind like a flag. Maybe it was the distance, but was he running on all fours?

"Hey! W-w-wait! I had plans tonight with her! Get back here!" I hollered, taking off after them.

The world blurred by in a smear of shadows and tree trunks as I shot through the forest, hot on the delivery guy's trail. I was gaining on him, but he was nothing short of a speed demon, blasting between the pine trees and over rivers and hillocks without breaking a sweat. It was amazing. If he was getting tired, he showed no signs of it, that was for sure. Thankfully for me, I didn't have to worry about fatigue. We'd see how long he could sprint.

Only I never found that out. I chased him for a good while, pushing deeper and deeper into the forest, until the trees became so thick the moonlight overhead struggled to touch the forest floor. And yet, he kept pounding on strong, darting between the close confines of the trees with strategic precision. Almost like he had sprinted at these breakneck speeds before. But that wasn't possible, right?

Wait, who am I kidding?! This is Gravity freaking Falls!

That just begged the question, though: just what the heck was this guy? And why didn't I know about him? Whenever and wherever he fell asleep, I intended on making his acquaintance. Maybe then I could have a chat with Red about her relations the Pines family, too.

Unfortunately for my hungry curiosity, that wasn't quite what happened.

In the past, I had wandered these forests quite extensively, getting a healthy look of their unique areas, remote, untouched landscapes and their occasional oddities (I can think of a few gnomes and unicorns who gave me a good laugh way back when). But after chasing the delivery guy and Red for so long, I suddenly found that he had lead me into a sector of the forest I hadn't explored before, not even thirty years ago.

The place had a suffocating feel to it, the darkness so heavy it weighed the very air. The trees looked a lot older here than in other parts of the forest, their branches swaddled with cobwebs and their bark mutilated with gouges that resembled claw marks. Strange grey shapes — maybe rocks or gigantic mushrooms? — crowded the muddy, tangled undergrowth, but I could barely make them out due to the nigh-nonexistent moonlight the thick canopies were choking away. If it weren't for the delivery guy's steps against the ground, I wouldn't have known where he was.

While inspecting the bizarre corner of the forest, something abruptly whooshed into my eye, blinding me for a moment and taking me completely off guard. I gave a yelp of surprise, skidding to a stop in the air, casting my gaze about to try and find out what it was that had hit me.

Scanning the forest floor, I finally spotted it, quickly sinking to the ground to see what it was up close. I squinted through the blackness at the colourless blob against the ferns, bending over to pick it up. The object shuddered and turned an icy blue as it transferred over to my dimension. It felt light, furry and soft, as I turned it over in my hand.

Red's hat.

Looking up, I just then realised that I had been stopped for several moments. Several precious moments. "Oh, crud," I murmured, my eye flitting all around me, searching hopelessly through the thin spaces between the trees for any sign of the delivery guy and Red. But I couldn't see them, anymore. They'd vanished. In my panic at being hit with Red's hat, I had completely lost track of both of them.

Way to go, Cipher.

"Well, great! There goes my fun night!" I grumbled aloud, squeezing the faux fur of the hat. "Thanks for nothing, ya plan-stopper!" Shaking my fist at virtually nothing, I continued, "Yeah, I'm talking to you, delivery guy, wherever you are!

"Right," I said to myself, running a thumb along my bowtie. "That happened. Creepy delivery guy ran off. Red's gone. Strange things are afoot… What's the plan now, Stan?"

Speaking of Stan — I think I had a reason to go and see him and his family at their weird little knick knack shack, now. Judging by that photo, if Red was gone, they'd surely miss her — you don't just take a group photo with someone and then not worry about them if they're gone for a while.

And who knew how long Red would be gone? Or where the delivery guy had taken her? I may know lots of things — LOTS OF THINGS — but those were two questions that were really getting my head-scratching hand ready to scratch it some head. Well, if I had a head, anyway.

No, I didn't know where he'd taken her, or what he was going to do with her. But I knew this: there was someone — or some _thing_ — new in town. Something powerful. And this place wasn't big enough for the both of us.

Maybe there was hope for my weekend yet?

* * *

 **Boom! (Insert Gravity Falls intro here. Go ahead, watch it. I know I will)**

 **What'd I tell ya? Short and sweet. I think it'll be easier to upload stuff that way - won't take too long.**

 **Anyway, thoughts? Concerns? Questions?**

 **Feel free to leave a review and let me know if you liked it. Also, what's your favourite Gravity Falls episode? Mine's Sock Opera. Classic.**

 **See you next chapter!**


End file.
